All That Glitters
by Deducing Sherlock
Summary: John Watson is an Omega who is waiting his turn to be auctioned off to a nice Alpha, or so he hopes. He doubts that any of those exist. Sherlock Holmes is an Alpha, a prince no less, who is tasked to find a mate. John is bought at an auction to work at the palace where Sherlock resides. What happens when the crown Prince falls for a beaten Omega servant like John? (AU, Omega!Lock)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Alone. Finally. He never thought the Betas would leave him alone tonight.

Groaning, he rolled over in his cell, looking at the gray brick walls that surrounded him. Through the stone walls, he could hear the whimpering of other trapped Omegas. He hated that they were all trapped here with no hope of escape. Every day just added to the never ending nightmare that they were forced to endure.

Bored, and in far too much pain to even attempt to sleep, he stood up and walked over to the door. He stood with his ear to the door for a long time, trying in vain to pick up any snatches of conversations that he could from the hall. All he managed to pick out were the words, "auction" and "shipment", which were two words that were no where near uncommon for him to hear. Sighing, he walked back over to his corner in the cell and laid on the dingy mat on the floor, curling into a ball.

Every part of him was on fire, but he did not possess the energy to care. Besides, the worse shape he was in, the less chance he had of being sold to an Alpha. He did not want to be sold to an Alpha. After years of torture in order to be prepared for an Alpha, he wanted nothing to do with them. He had come to a decision a long time ago that he'd rather die first than be someone's Omega.

Though he was in no state to sleep, his pain suddenly lulled him into a state of unconsciousness.

* * *

"You're an Alpha, a prince for goodness sakes, and you can't find one person in this whole kingdom that pleases you?"

Sherlock looked at his brother, rolling his eyes. He had heard this lecture one too many times for his taste. He just wanted to be left alone, to do as he pleased. He stared at his brother, studying him closely. His hair was askew, flipping up off the side. His royal garments hung about his body, the purple and gold colored linens hitting the white tile of the floor. His brother's eyes were hardened by disapproval and brotherly concern.

"Why should it be any concern of yours that I can't find a mate, Mycroft? Besides, you are the king, and you have a mate. What if I want to be mate less?"

"That's not how it works, Sherlock," said Mycroft, glaring at him. "You need to stop being so relaxed about this whole ordeal."

"I can do whatever I want." He glared back at you, his bright blue eyes flashing with rage momentarily.

"Sherlock, you have millions of suitors asking for your hand, can't you just pick one? For the sake of the kingdom? For the sake of our parents?"

Sherlock smirked. He always knew that his brother was running out of plays when he played the parent card.

"Don't play the parent card with me. You know that never works." He smirked. "You can't make a sociopath like me feel guilty for doing what he feels is right."

Mycroft growled, rolling his eyes.

"Sometime, you're going to have to grow up, Sherlock. If I were you, I'd do it soon."

Turning on his heel, he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him, causing the slam to vibrate off the wall. He rolled his eyes, proceeding to lie back down on his bed. He didn't care that Mycroft was peeved with him. He could honestly care less. Ever since his brother ascended the throne, he thought that he was so superior. Mycroft may have rule over Britain, but he certainly didn't have any rule over what he decided to do in his life.

Besides, even if he wanted to mate, which he didn't, there was no one that proved themselves suitable enough. They were always to desperate. It was because of the fact that he was a prince that they felt they could throw themselves at him, and he would take them. He snorted as he allowed himself to think back on all of the pathetic suitors that had to deal with it the past. All the false promises, all the fancy gifts. He was sick of it all. There were days where he wished that he wasn't a prince, that he was just ordinary.

That was when a brilliant idea wormed its way into his brain. He sat up, grinning from ear to ear. He knew that Mycroft would disapprove of the idea, but he didn't really care. He knew that he had at least four hours tomorrow morning to get about before his next suitor arrived. He would find a way to sneak out of the castle and go to town to escape for a bit at that time, and manage to make it back in plenty of time to view his suitors.

He threw himself back onto his bed with a sigh. This would work out perfectly. He yawned, now tired and ready to embrace the day tomorrow.

* * *

**AN: Just deciding to test the waters with an AU Omega!Lock. I hope you all enjoyed it! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Get up."

He heard the command, but didn't want to obey it. His body ached from yesterday's extremities. He didn't feel like rousing from his cold, wet bed in order to satisfy the lustful desire of the alphas that would be herded through here today.

When he didn't make a move to stand up, the Beta guard at the door let out a small growl.

"That's it. Looks like you're walking in the parade today."

The guard ripped open the door to his cell rather violently, causing it to slam into the brick wall, making a loud clang vibrate through the air. The Beta guard grabbed his arm roughly and yanked him to his feet so fast that his head started to spin. He was dehydrated and starving beyond belief, but that didn't matter to the Betas. Nothing that pertained to the Omegas well being _ever_ bothered them.

The Beta guard produced a set of handcuffs and shackles, immediately imprisoning his limbs in them.

"You will walk behind the cart with your fellow Omegas today. That will be your punishment. Be thankful I'm not reporting you."

He let out a sigh. Today was just proving to be a longer day than all the others. He couldn't wait until this day was over, or when he was dead. Which ever came first.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to peek its head over the distant horizon when Sherlock rolled out of his bed. He crept quietly across the marble floor toward his closet, opening it a crack to look for some form of clothing that would serve the purpose he needed it for. He noticed that in the far reaches of the closet was a black riding cloak. He had worn this cloak during his riding lessons. He examined the cloak in the light once he had withdrawn it from the closet. He saw that it was outlined with a small gold fringe. Luckily the gold accents were small enough that they might not stand out, and reveal his true identity to the people in the town.

He slipped the riding cloak on over some causal clothes that he could find, which consisted of a white shirt that billowed slightly at the hip, and a pair of black trousers. He slipped a belt on around his waist to keep his pants up before placing a pair of brown boots onto his feet. He would have to be careful in sneaking out. He didn't want to be caught by his parents, or Mycroft. Mycroft would probably be the one to catch him if anyone did at all. He would just have to hope that he was still asleep at the moment.

Sherlock walked over to his window and gently opened the window. He noticed that the drop to the ground from his bedroom window was about five feet or so. If he was careful, he could get down from his room without causing himself serious injury. He sat on his window ledge, swinging his feet first out the window. Once he felt his ankles getting tickled by the bushes beside his window, he knew that it was safe to swing more weight onto his feet. He swung out of the window, immediately landing in a crouched position behind the line of bushes. He peeked his head over the top of the bushes to look toward the gate and wall that were now in his way. This would be the most complicated part of sneaking out.

Last night, he had mulled this problem over in his mind, deciding that the best course of action that he could take was to sneak out through the servant's kitchen. He stayed crouched as he snuck his way over to the servant's exit, pulling his hood up securely to conceal his features from his guards. Hopefully they wouldn't be as attentive this early in the morning. He snuck through the arch that led to the servant's exit, snatching up a basket on his way and making it hang off his arm. He had to make it look like he was a servant leaving to get some sort of grocery in the town, else he would be trapped here.

He soon approached the guards that were standing at somewhat attention near the main gates. He slowed his steps as the guards turned their attention to him.

"Where are you going this morning?"

He lifted the arm with the basket slightly, to display its emptiness to the guards.

"I'm going to get some vegetables. I shall be back in a while."

He knew that not being specific might be his downfall. However, the guards soon stood aside to let him through. He smirked slightly, glad that it was hidden by the shadow cast from the hood. He never realized how vacant his guards acted when it came to their jobs. He would have to address that later. Right now, their vacantness served as an advantage to him, and he was grateful for it. He slipped past them, and started to walk down the dirt path that led to the town. It was time he relaxed for a bit before being ensnared into being introduced to suitors again.

* * *

The cart snapped forward suddenly, causing him to fall to his knees into the mud once in a while. Whenever he fell, he always got jeers from the small crowd that would gather momentarily. He was humiliated. As if it weren't bad enough being an Omega up for auction. Now he was an Omega up for auction who was walking behind a cart, naked. He was shivering at the chill that that brought over his body. The only thing that he could find to be grateful for at the moment was the fact that every time he fell into the mud, the mud covered his nakedness slightly.

As the cart came to a sudden halt, he found himself on his knees in the mud once again. He hung his head as the crowd that slowly gathered jeered at him.

"Get up, Omega trash!" a voice yelled out; the sentence ringing in his ears.

He felt himself get yanked quickly to his feet; multicolored dots dancing in the corner of his vision. He turned to stare into the face of a Beta.

"You don't get to rest. You are to stay on your feet."

He bit his lip. If he fought back, he would be punished even more severely, and more than likely, publicly.

When he didn't respond, the Beta kicked at his shins, causing him to let out a groan of pain. His legs wobbled underneath him, desperate for him to collapse onto his knees again for relief. He command himself mentally to stay standing. He wouldn't let this Beta ruin him. He wouldn't let anyone ruin him. Collapsing into a weak mess was exactly the outcome that the Beta was wanting. He was stronger than that.

"Stop it!" a voice yelled out among the jeerers as the Beta brought his foot back again, preparing to kick.

* * *

Sherlock had managed to make it to the heart of town without being recognized. Once he had reached the heart of town, he noticed that a small crowd had begun to form. Curious as to what was going on, he approached closer to see for himself. What he saw caused his blood to run cold. He placed his basket down, angrily clenching his fists.

Standing in front of him was a man in cuffs and shackles. He was currently chained to the cart in front of him. His body was completely naked and covered in various nasty looking cuts and bruises. A gruffer looking man stood in front of the wobbling man; his leg brought back to angle another kick at him. Sherlock didn't know what was going on at first until his eyes wandered to the cage on the back of the cart where the men trapped inside looked through the bars at the spectacle. That was when everything clicked in his mind. This was an Omega, no doubt being beat up by a Beta on his way to an auction. However, just because he was an Omega, didn't mean that he should be treated in such a fashion.

"Stop it!" he called out.

The Beta jerked up his head sharply then, scanning the crowd to try to see who would dare to speak out against his actions. Sherlock wove his way through the crowd as they all turn to fixate their eyes on him. He reached up to make sure that his hood was still firmly on his head before standing in front of the Beta.

"I suggest that if you wish to sell him at an auction, that you don't mar him with more injuries," spoke out Sherlock before the Beta had a chance to rebuke him for speaking out to begin with.

The Beta glared at him angrily, clenching his hands into fists.

"And I suggest to you that you best get out of here. This is none of your business."

Sherlock ignored the enraged Beta, turning to address the shaking Omega.

"What's your name?" he asked the Omega who was staring at him with wide eyes.

"J-John..." He stuttered in shock.

"Are you alright, John?" He asked.

Still too shocked to speak, John nodded his head to answer Sherlock's inquiry.

The Beta that stood beside him got more enraged by the moment. Suddenly, another voice erupted from the larger crowd that seemed to gather.

"How much do you want for him?"

Sherlock panicked, freezing at the familiar voice that sailed through the air.

The voice belonged to Mycroft.


End file.
